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Topic: [Tarlith]-Seven Suns (Read 33169 times)

Rhen digested the bhuka's words for a long moment, watching yet foreign patron enter the bar and discuss an apparent bulletin with the bard. The ranger turned back to his host and offered a sincere, if narrow, smile.

“I think you’re right. I’m already feeling a bit cramped in this town,” Rhen said as he stood and nodded toward the bulletin.

He approached the sign, the duo near the notice apparently finishing introductions, and Rhen gazed past them to read the message. He grinned and wheeled around to inform the bhuka.

“We’re in luck. A caravan is leaving for the Aligoni, and they need some hired blades. Sound like your kind of ‘employment’?”

"I like your laugh, Musicman", the barkeep told Kherbish conspiratorially, mightily amused with his nicknaming, "I'll tell ya something though. That fella that came in and I had a word. Seems that the caravan that's advertising is leaving tomorrow. You'd best be moving along if you want to get a spot."

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"And how can man die better than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers, or the temples of his gods."

Xanathur seemed surprised "Why would they wait to put up a post until now? If they are leaving tomorrow they must have just come across a problem. This may prove to be a worthy adventure after all. We must leave at once and catch up with them!"

Logged

Those who walk the shadows, tread a very narrow path between darkness and light. This path will reveal all.

Kherbish raised a curious eyebrow. "Leaving so soon, and only now posting for recruits? This does not bode well..." The half-elf shrugged. "But such is the way of the deserts, no? Indeed then, my friend Xanathur, let us go to find this caravan." He glanced over his shoulder, as he stepped toward the door. The Bhuka and the other man seemed to be taking the same path out of Herolty as he was. "Let the Bhuka and his friend find their own way to the convoy," he murmured beneath his breath, just loud enough for the Bhuka to perhaps hear. "If they be worthy, their blades will prove themselves there."

"Let us hurry on our way, the heat at this time is dreadful. We must make haste if we want to catch them and perhaps an evening meal somewhere cool." Xanathur's desert robe billowed out before him as he stepped once again into the blazing sunlight. He then motioned for Kherbish to follow him.

Logged

Those who walk the shadows, tread a very narrow path between darkness and light. This path will reveal all.

Xanathur and Kherbish walked between the motley array of buildings and tents on their way to the largest group of white tents. The Merchants' Guild was a bustling hub of activity, even in the noonday suns. Slightly behind a group of camels, Kherbish noticed a large wooden sign. Painted in golden letters a foot high was:The Caravan of Master Amn-Alrhed, purveyor of fine clothes. Standing beside the sign was a tall man. Kherbish recognized him as the stranger who had posted the scroll back in the Dirty Tankard.

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"And how can man die better than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers, or the temples of his gods."

"Abughai!" Kherbish called out, trotting jauntily up to the merchant. "Well met, Abughai Amn-Alrhed." He gave a slight bow, his arms displayed and palms upward. "You are seeking guards for your fine caravan, yes? My Nökür Xanathur here is just such a man, his skill with a blade unmatched. And I, humble Kherbish, can give entertainment to your weary ears on the journey - Surely, you heard me play in the bar, yes?"

“Come Ss’k. If Amn-Alrhed is posting for hired help this late, then he’s got both trouble and gold.” After securing his hood and scarf, Rhen motioned for the bhuka to follow him out of the tavern and to find the caravan.

The ranger and the bhuka found the tents much the same as when Xanathur and Kherbish did. They also saw those two talking with the stranger from the tavern beside a sign proclaiming the tents of Master Amn-Alrhed. "No, friend", the tall man said to Kherbish, "I am not the great Master. I am but humble Grodul, Amn-Alrhed's personal secretary. If you wish to inquire about the guard positions then I will most happily take you in to see my master, he will be most pleased. As for you, Humble Kherbish, if you can play that well always, I would pay your way with us myself." Grodul turned toward the largest pavillion, motioning for the two to follow him.

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"And how can man die better than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers, or the temples of his gods."

Kherbish smiled coolly at Grodul. "Very good then, Nökür. Please lead the way." He shot back a sly grin at Ss'kerswihpp and Rhen as they rushed up behind him. "Ah, how pleasant that you have made it! I hope, for our sakes, that you are more punctual on watch duty." With an ambiguous wink, he stepped into the doorway.

Rhen smiled as he regarded the half-elf entering the pavillion. The ranger would enjoy this adventure.

"Let's not tarry, Ss'k. We wouldn't want to worry the musican."

His smile faded as the words left his mouth, for a thought occured to him. The half-elf proclaimed himself a bard, and his impromptu companion was obviously a warrior. So what are the bhuka's talents? Rhen thought to ask him, but bit his tongue. Such things usually reveal themselves in time.

Grodul led the four of them into the shade of the pavilion. Scattered across rich carpets were plush, richly embroidered pillows. Lounging in the center of the room on the largest of the pillows is a hugely fat merchant. Amn-Alrhed. "Ah, welcome guests!" Amn-Alrhed said widely, "Faithful Grodul, are these the guards that I sent you for?" "Yes, Master", Grodul replied bowing and touching his forehead in respect, "These are they. This is Xanathur, noble warrior, and his companion, Humble Kherbish, an artist with his instrument. These other two and I have not, as yet, introduced ourselves."

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"And how can man die better than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers, or the temples of his gods."

"Very good!", the obese man said happily, "Here are the terms. It will be dangerous. I cannot guarantee that anyone will survive. Each guard who gets to the other side with us will receive one percent of the price that our goods bring. Anything that you get from raiders or bandits along the way you can keep. Agreed?"

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"And how can man die better than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers, or the temples of his gods."

"How do we know the worth of your goods? Are we to wait and receive only copper? The great danger of this mission makes it seem more reasonable to get a better fare. Maybe you can survive without us hmm?

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Those who walk the shadows, tread a very narrow path between darkness and light. This path will reveal all.

Kherbish gave a deep nod after a few moments. "It is a pleasure to serve, Abughai Amn-Alrhed," he replied. "I gladly accept your offer."

He'd seen these types before: non-committal, concerned only with money and experts at keeping their wealth protected. The obese trader was smarter than he looked, and had likely weighed the odds carefully already. The cargo was expensive enough to send a guard and pay with the profits, but cheap enough to risk a double-crossing by hired blades paid only one hundredth of the caravan's worth. Kherbish weighed the risks too: Herolty wasn't worth his time, and even ignoble swordplay with bandits was better than hanging around strumming without a high-paying audience. Besides, if things got too hairy, he could always convince the bandits that he'd be more valuable as their musician than their prey and have his own life spared.

"That is most generous of you, yes, well worth the trip, and the danger, I am sure." Ss'kerswihpp nodded a few more times before falling into silent awe at the size of this man, for where Ss'kerswihpp was thin and light this man was enormous and apparently quite heavy. He must eat well, Ss'kerswihpp thought.

"Good, good!", Amn-Alrhed said, "This is surely good news! All four of you will have to stay to dine with me. And in the morning, we will set out. If there is anything you need to do in town, I suggest you finish it tonight."

Logged

"And how can man die better than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers, or the temples of his gods."

Rhen thanked the merchant for his generosity. The ranger didn't know the quality of the man's goods, though a quick look around suggested a fairly successful enterprise. One percent didn't sound like much, but Rhen wasn't in it for the gold. He glanced about to find Grodul. Approaching the man, he held his arms out, palms open, and smiled warmly."As your master suggested, there are a few items I would like to acquire before the day's end. I don't suppose his goods include weaponry, hm? If not, I'd like to know when I should expect dinner to be served, so as not to appear rude if I venture into town and return late."On another note, I assume your master has crossed the Aligoni before; how else would he know to take such precautions, and give such a stern warning? I'm curious, what sort of obstacles has he encountered on his journey?"